


The Dragonborn Assassin

by Thesquirespage



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: M/M, No Idea where this was going, Plot bunny farm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2020-10-17 13:44:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20621993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thesquirespage/pseuds/Thesquirespage
Summary: He was supposed to be dead. He'd had enough adventure for a lifetime, in all technicality, he'd had enough for several. But here he was waking up in the back of a wagon, heading towards the chopping block and holy sh*t was that a dragon?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> No idea when I'll actually update this one, I'll be doing my main story which is a gift to the original author of Green Eyed Dragon/Dragon's and Death who is dealing with some mental health issues, first as well as another I have lined up on my docket.

When Desmund opened his eyes he was momentarily surprised. He was dead, or at least he was supposed to be. He'd touched the Apple of Eden in order to stop the solar flare, he'd willingly given up his life, let Juno free unto the world but somehow he was sitting in a wooden cart with four others, breathing and alive, and very cold despite his white hoodie and jeans. He still had his hidden blade on his forearm but he could feel that his backpack was missing. Not that it had anything important anymore, or at least anything that would be important where he was. If he wasn't completely sure that he should be dead he'd have believed himself to be once more in the animus. Then again if he was in the animus he should be in the clothes of one of his ancestors not his everyday clothing. Although looking around he wished he was in one of his ancestors clothing, it definitely would have fit in better than what he was currently wearing. Perhaps the apple had simply flung him into the past rather than killing him.

He gave a cursory look around. The men in the cart with him and in the other carts around him were wearing short sleeved mace atop blue tunics and underneath leather and fur cuirasses. They were obviously from the same organization or more likely army given that the ones escorting them were in more Grecian style armor that was red and gold. Desmund looked down at his hands, they were tied together but honestly it was child's play for him to tense, and twist as he wiggled his hands free in seconds ignoring the blond man sitting in front of him as he spoke.

Desmund looked up and cataloged those that were in between him and freedom. There were far too many for him to take out on his own and he wasn't one hundred percent sure he could escape them without some kind of distraction, what he wouldn't give for a smoke bomb right about now. Desmund held on to the rope twisting it loosely around his wrists so it looked like he was still tied. The blond man had fallen silent when he realized exactly what Desmund had been doing. The gagged man beside Desmund lifted an eyebrow and gave a significant look to the blond man in front of Desmund. The blond immediately began filling the silence with words once more, pretending nothing was wrong.

Desmund ignored him as he looked around calculating everything trying to find something anything that he could use to cause a distraction; perhaps if he freed enough of the prisoners that would work? Suddenly one of the red armored men knocked on the wood of the cart causing Desmund to jump in surprise as the soldier shouted.

"Quiet back there," the soldier shouted. Desmund winced as he tried to untense once more. The soldier had sounded like his father and reminded him of their interactions for a quick moment. The blond man and the man who was apparently was a horse thief began speaking again only this time more quietly.

Desmund made his decision and leaned forward giving a significant look to the blond man who sat in front of him. The blond caught on quickly and Desmund's nimble fingers quickly loosened the man's own cords so that they sat uselessly around his wrists. The thief still babbling didn't notice, and Desmund sat back leaning into the gagged man beside him next. It didn't take long for Desmund to have those cords loosened too. Desmund didn't get a chance to free the horse thief from his binds before they were entering a small village that wouldn't have been out of place in medieval Europe.

He watched as a young boy who couldn't be more than nine or ten was ushered into the safety of one of the homes by his father, despite his childish protesting. The cart rolled to a stop beside others and the thief spoke, fear evident in his voice as he asked,

"Why are we stopping?"

"Why do you think," the blond said with resignation, "End of the line." Desmund stopped listening as the thief whined and begged, too busy using eagle vision to calculate how many enemies there was around him, and what his options of escape were. He learned the actual names of his companions as they were called out, having not paid attention earlier. The gagged man had the name of Ulfric and it would seem he was a form of royalty or at least held a respected positon with the title of Jarl of a place called Windhelm. The blond was Ralof of Riverwood and the thief was Lokir of Rorikstead. Desmund didn't recognize the names of any of these places and wondered if this was some form of purgatory. Suddenly in a flurry of movement Lokir was off running as fast as he could with his hands still tied together.

Unfortunately it wasn't fast enough. An archer robed in red and bronze brought Lokir down before he had even made it more than four hundred meters away, with a single well placed arrow that pierced Lokir's neck. It was the distraction Desmund had been looking for though and he swiftly moved cutting the bonds that tied the majority of the prisoners with his hidden blade. Prisoners who then moved quickly to arm themselves with the weapons that had been taken from them and placed in another one of the carts, before they helped him free the other prisoners.

Quickly it became an all-out skirmish and Desmund drew on the skills that had bled over from Altair and Ezio and even from Ratonhnhaké:ton as he moved, grabbing a smaller war axe from one of the fallen soldiers in blue and using it to disembowel a solder in red and bronze. An inhuman roar rang out in the frosty air causing many of the soldiers to pause in their movements as they looked to the sky. Desmund used the opportunity to stab his hidden blade into the spine of another red and bronze soldier.

"Damn you Stormcloaks!" screamed one of the red and bronze clad soldiers, seconds before two of the blue clad ones, apparently called Stormcloaks worked together to cut him down. A second roar sounded this one much louder and closer and then the screams of men became less angry and more hysterical as the ground shook. Desmund looked up at the beast that had landed on one of the towers.

A roar filled with words that Desmond didn't understand blasted out of the dragon's maw, which was remarkable since he could speak and understand English, Arabic, Italian, and Apache. Whatever the language the dragon spoke the words weren't friendly and several soldiers from both sides were torn apart by the roar.

"Fanculo," Desmond hissed.

"Hey you, come on! The gods won't give us another chance," called the blond from the cart, Ralof, as he grabbed the back of Desmond's hoodie and pulled him along as he ran before letting go as Desmond found his feet to follow.

Ralof led him into another tower, one that was relatively still intact in comparison to the one the dragon landed on. Desmond had just barely left the doorway before another soldier slammed the heavy wooden door behind him.

"Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legends be true?" Ralof said once he had caught his breath, to the man who had been gagged and bound in the cart beside him earlier. Ulfric gave Desmond a once over, his eyes as intense as the rest of him, probably taking in his strange clothes. Nonetheless it made Desmond's face heat up a little before Ulfric turned his attention away towards Ralof.

"Legends don't burn down villages. We need to move, now!" Ulfric replied loudly as a muffled roar sounded from outside. Ralof was quick to think of a solution.

"Up through the tower. Let's go! This way, friend! Move!" Ralof called and immediately two soldiers led him and Desmond up the tower.

"We just need to move some of these rocks to clear the way!" one of the soldiers said about half way up the tower. Only seconds later the black beast thrust its head through the tower wall blasting one soldier, before lighting the very air on fire.

"Fuck," Desmond cursed as he leaped back taking Ralof with him. The dragon pushed back out the tower to terrorize the town more. Like a vacuum cold air rushed into the tower and they were moving again. Ralof leaned looking out of the hole the dragon had left and pointing as Desmond came up beside him.

"See that inn down there?" Ralof asked. Desmond nodded. "Jump down there and keep going," the tower seemed to almost vibrate as a few stones shifted their weight. "Shit," Ralof cursed, "Go, we'll follow when we can," the blond man said as he rushed back down the stairs to get the others. Desmond did as Ralof bid and leapt latching onto one of the support bars and using it to flip to the ground. He quickly exited the burning building jumping over the flames and overturned furniture as he ran.

"Haming, you need to get over here now! Thataboy. You're doing great! Torolf! Gods...everyone get back!" yelled a red and gold clad soldier that Desmond recognized as holding the list earlier before all the pandemonium. The air heated again as the dragon breathed fire down in their direction, Desmond ducked and weaved as did the guard and a young boy whose father fell behind and got caught up in the fire. Once more Desmond caught strange words from the dragon in the seconds before the fire rained down, but still he couldn't recognize them. Perhaps the dragon was calling for them to die? Is that something dragons normally did? For a second his mind short circuited, up until this point, despite it being somewhat unrealistic he'd thought that Juno was wrong and the apple hadn't killed him, but simply flung him into the past, not ideal but better than whatever special kind of hell this was.

"Fuck me, that's an actual fucking dragon," Desmond said. "Well Toto we're not in Kansas anymore."

"Still alive prisoner?" asked the red and gold clad soldier asked resignedly as he directed with his hands another soldier to take the young boy and move on. "Don't think I didn't see you free those Stormcloaks before this beast flew in, but if you want to stay alive follow me." Desmond gave a nod. At the moment he'd take his allies where he could get them. He would leave this man as soon as possible. He might be helpful now but Desmond had been his prisoner and had also directly caused the deaths of many of his comrades, and as soon as they were safe it was likely that the man would turn on him. They ran together through the village before ducking into a narrow alley.

"Stay close to the wall," the soldier hissed. The dragon landed on the wall they were against and Desmond held his breath as the dragon destroyed another series of buildings. Again Desmond heard words this time catching them and memorizing them perhaps they might mean something specific or important in this place; wherever this fantasy place was. He mumbled them under his breath as the dragon took off.

"Yol, Toor, Shul," he whispered in wonderance. Even as he just whispered them something felt powerful about them; it was like when he was in the presence of the Apple, which unnerved him greatly. He didn't have time to think about it as he and the red and gold soldier were off again. They wove through fire-filled alleys and buildings trying to find an exit.

"Ralof you damned traitor, out of my way," yelled the soldier Desmond had been following. Sure enough Ralof was right in front of them.

"We're escaping Hadvar, you're not stopping us this time," Ralof said. Well, Desmond thought, it would seem they know each other. Another roar from the dragon sounded from above.

"Fine," hissed Hadvar, "I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde."

"Come on now," Ralof said "We need to get into the keep," the man continued directing his words to Desmond.

"No! With me, prisoner," Hadvar said.

"Not likely," Desmond said as he ran after Ralof. They made it into the keep together and Ralof gave Desmond a quick grin.

"Good choice lad," Ralof said and held out his hand, "Names Ralof."

"Thanks," Desmond answered bringing his own towards Ralof. "I'm Desmond, Desmond Miles." Ralof gripped Desmond's forearm rather than his hand and Desmond copied it before they both let go.

"Thanks for getting rid of the bonds earlier. Saved a lot of our lives when that dragon came, had more of us still been tied when that beast rained fire I'm certain we'd have been far worse off," Ralof said.

"To tell you the truth I did it more for me than to help you," Desmond said truthfully as they began walking towards the door at the end of the large room.

"How's that?" Ralof asked.

"There was no way I'd be able to escape if all of the soldiers had their attention on me," Desmond said.

"We were nothing more than a distraction then. Which means you aren't a Stormcloak sympathizer," Ralof stated.

"It's hard to sympathize when I have no idea what you're fighting for," Desmond said. "You may have noticed but I'm not exactly from around here," Desmond continued gesturing to his clothing which was truly very different from what Ralof was wearing. Ralof stopped causing Desmond to stop as well and gave Desmond a once over.

"So you are," Ralof said, "Where are you from? The Imperial City?"

"A place called New York City," Desmond replied.

"I've never heard of it, is it in Cyrodiil?" Ralof asked as they walked forward once more. Desmond opened his mouth to answer but Ralof had taken off like a shot Desmond jogged after him and saw Ralof kneel down by the body of another man, obviously a comrade based off of the armor. Ralof closed the other man's eyes and rose once more his voice a little thicker with grief.

"We'll meet again in Sovngarde, brother," Ralof said and they both stiffend as the keep shuddered and a roar was heard even where they were within the thick stone walls. "We better get moving," Ralof said when the shudder stopped looking back down at his comrade. "May as well take Gunjar's gear...he won't be needing it anymore," Ralof said. "You get that on and I'll check for an exit."

Desmond gave a nod earlier answer about where New York City was located forgotten. He left the cuirass on the man, Gunjar; it was far to burnt to be any use to him. He did however take the man's fur and leather boots though along with the metal gauntlets covered once more in fur. He slid them on double checking to make sure that his hidden blade was still effective even with the second layer, before pulling the second gauntlet off when the blade got caught up in the fur. He picked up the short war axe before standing straight as the piece of him that was Connor just about purred in excitement. Desmond turned to Ralof who pointed at the wooden door on one wall as he walked towards a metal gate.

"That one's locked. Let's see about this gate," Ralof said. He used his strength to try and pull it up and open but it didn't budge. "Damn. No way to open this from our side," Ralof cursed. Suddenly two voices could be heard through the gate along with footsteps sounding almost as though they were moving down a hallway towards the room just past the metal gate.

"It's the Imperials, take cover," Ralof hissed quietly and he hid to the side of the gate just out of view where he could launch an ambush. Desmond leapt onto one of the barrels and then onto the bookcase set against the wall on the other side of the metal gate where he was out of sight and could perform an aerial assassination. Ralof looked in surprise before paying attention and tensing as the metal gate began rising with a screech. The two imperial soldiers walked in without a care. Desmond was already in the open air when Ralof shouted his war cry cursing the soldiers as he swung his weapon decapitating one of them. The blade of Desmond's axe buried itself in the skull of the other. It had only taken seconds for the small fight, if it could be called that, to be over.

Desmond wiped the blood and brain matter off his axe blade onto the cloth portion of the dead soldier's armor, and Ralof bid him to search the soldier to see if there was a key on his body. Desmond didn't find a key but there was a small pouch holding two gold coins and a series of smaller silver ones. The dead soldier also had a pack on which Desmond emptied before placing the coin purse into it as well as the map that had already been in it back in and slinging it onto his back. He hesitated for a moment before loosening the sword belt the soldier had and strapping it to himself with the sword.

"Got it, she had the key," Ralof said straightening up. "Here," Ralof said tossing a slightly more full coin purse that the female imperial captain had had on her when he searched her. Desmond caught it and paused.

"Why? She was your kill," Desmond asked. Ralof raised a blond eyebrow.

"Aye, but you're the reason we got out alive in the first place, even if it wasn't intentional, figured I'd pay that debt. Maybe if we make it all the way out that little kindness will endear yourself too our cause and you'll join the Stormcloaks. We could use someone who thinks like you do. To many of us are far too held up on honor and glory, which is good and all, gods it's the Nord way but if we aren't careful it's gonna get us all killed," Ralof said. It seemed a lot of words for the man and Desmond gave a nod tossing the coin purse lightly in his hand before swinging his pack to one shoulder and putting it in.

"Maybe you're right, but I can't say I'll join your cause yet. I have no idea what your cause is, but I'll tell you what; if we get out of this place alive I'll let you tell me all about it and give you a chance to convince me," Desmond said.

"Sounds like a fair bargain," Ralof said and with that they were off Ralof unlocking the door so they could continue forward.

Desmond was surprised to see the sunlight as he and Ralof exited the cave only a few hours later. He shuddered again at the thought of the giant spiders they had fought. Ralof had explained to him quietly as they travelled, the various denizens of Skyrim; which was apparently where he was. The entirety of the continent was known as Tamriel which proved his conclusion that he was not on earth in anyway shape or form, past or present, and he had to make the best of that.

The sound of a high up roar and powerful wings had Desmond and Ralof ducking together behind a large rock. A shadow passed over them and they both looked up and watched as the black beast that had burned and terrorized Helgen, the town they had just escaped from, flew into the nearby mountain range.

"Looks like he's gone for good this time," Ralof said as they straightened up beside Desmond before looking back towards the cave and watching smoke rise up from where Helgen stood. Ralof sighed.

"No way to know if anyone else made it out alive. But this place is going to be swarming with Imperials soon enough. We'd better clear out of here. My sister Gerdur runs the mill in Riverwood, just up the road," Ralof said still watching the sky. "I'm sure she'd help you out. It's probably best if we split up. Good luck. I wouldn't have made it without your help today," Ralof said head turning towards his companion. Desmond looked at him incredulously.

"Yeah not happening," Desmond said. "How many times am I going to have to say it? I am not from here, which means I have absolutely no clue where I am and how to get to Riverwood is it?"

"Sorry," Ralof said with a wince. "It would just be better for you if you weren't seen with me, a known Stormcloak soldier, especially if you aren't sure about coming to our cause."

"At least get me to Riverwood," Desmond said.

Ralof led Desmond in a light jog one that Desmond was sure the man could hold for hours if necessary. He was thankful that exercise had been something to ground him while he suffered through the bleeding effects else he'd have never been able to hold the same pace. They made it a few miles away from the burning village that lay somewhere behind them when Ralof slowed his pace.

"Hey there was a map in that pack you took right?" Ralof asked.

"Yeah," Desmond said.

"Give it here. I'll mark down the major cities and the few towns I know the exact locations of best I can, as well as a few other places I know," Ralof said. Desmond quickly swung his pack off his back and dug out the scroll that was his acquired map. It only took a few moments for Ralof to finish marking the map with a small piece of charcoal that he'd pulled from somewhere Desmond couldn't fathom.

"Thanks," Desmond said taking it back when Ralof was done. Rather than looking at it right away Desmond simply rerolled it and placed it back into his bag. Ralof sighed.

"I suppose you can come with me until Riverwood, but after than someone needs to go to Whiterun and warn Jarl Balgruuf. I can't do it, I'd be arrested the moment I entered the city. Despite their bid for neutrality the empire still has more hold there then the rebellion does," Ralof said with a sigh as they began their steady jog once more.


	2. Chapter 2

They jogged together in complete silence for about five minutes before Desmond spoke. 

“You said you’d explain the position of the Stormcloaks,” Desmond said. Ralof slowed just enough so that he could keep up conversation and Desmond did the same to match his stride. 

“Aye, I did,” Ralof said. “But to understand the specifics of the position you need a little background knowledge and I don’t really know what you know. You never did answer my question in the keep earlier. Where is New York City?” Ralof asked. Desmond’s throat constricted slightly. It was a question he wasn’t sure on how to answer. Finally he spoke.

“What do you know of other worlds?” Desmond asked finally. 

“You mean like other dimensions?” Ralof asked. 

“Maybe,” said Desmond, “I’m not really sure. All I know is I touched a Piece of Eden otherwise known as an artifact of the Isu or the First Civilization in order to stop the Great Catastrophe and was told that I would die from it and knowing that it would release Juno, one of the Isu into the world. The Isu for reference aren’t gods but are definitely on a higher level than humans. Next thing I know I’m waking up in the back of that cart without a clue as to how I got there. Best I can tell is that I’m in a whole new world because mine didn’t have places like Skyrim and certainly didn’t have dragons.” Ralof was silent for a bit of time and Desmond wondered if the man thought he was mad.

“The Isu you called them?” Ralof asked and Desmond gave a slight nod even as they jogged. “They sound like Daedric Princes, they are like gods but they’re not. They aren’t quite opposites either. The gods are good but not all the Daedric Princes are inherently evil, so they aren’t anti-gods but there are some of them who aren’t anything but evil. Perhaps I’m not explaining this right,” Ralof said shaking his head. “The Aedra, The Nine Divines or the Gods are who you’ll find most of Skyrim worshiping. There is Akatosh, he’s the dragon god of time. He’s also the first god and chief among them. Much of Tamriel not just Skyrim worships him.” As they ran Ralof removed one of his fur gauntlets and turned his wrist to show a burned symbol in his skin, that of a dragon. Desmond could see that it was healed yet it still looked painful. 

“That’s his symbol? That’s the symbol that the flags at Helgen were flying,” Desmond said. 

“Aye, the Empire, and therefore the Imperials have adopted the symbol as their own. I received this brand shortly after being captured because of the Markarth Incident many years ago. Every Stormcloak soldier or supporter was given this brand, by the Imperial Soldiers before being imprisoned. Before High King Ulfric challenged Torygg and his position as High King, Talos worshipers, or what are now called Stormcloaks were imprisoned not executed. The brand was meant to set us apart from other prisoners. Though it was the Empire’s men who did the branding it was the Thalmor who were behind the branding,” Ralof said. 

“Talos is another god I assume?” Desmond asked. 

“Aye, the man who became a god, otherwise known as Tiber Septum the first Emperor of Men. The Thalmor and the Aldmeri Dominion forbid his worship when they forced the Empire to sign the White Gold Concordat,” Ralof spat. 

“And the Thalmor and Aldmeri Dominion being?” Desmond asked. 

“They are one and the same. The Thalmor are made up of a ruling group of High Elves who believe that they are far superior to every other race, they are the ones who keep pushing for war and taking the empire piece by piece. It’s sickening! Skyrim is for the Nords!” Ralof spat. 

“Okay, okay, not disputing that, but um new guy here, definitely not a Nord and now wondering why you want me to join the Stormcloaks if they are against any other than Nords living here?” Desmond asked the corner of his eye on the man beside him in case he needed to leap away. Ralof sighed. 

“It’s not that we dispute the right for other races to settle here, it’s that we dispute the disruption of our culture, our traditions and our rights to worship and practice our religions. It’s true that many of my fellow brothers are racist. Especially towards the Elven Races, but many fought in the Great Wars and remember battling the High Elves. Our leader Ulfric was captured and tortured by them. We hold grudges but rest assured that when Ulfric wins, and he will, there will not be a forced mass exodus of other races that are not Nords from Skyrim,” Ralof said. 

“Well that’s a relief,” Desmond said. “I assume that is what the rebellion is about?” 

“Mostly,” Ralof replied. “The other part is the fact that the Empire signed the Concordat in the first place, Talos worship being banned notwithstanding. We all know that the Aldmeri Dominion is merely building up strength and biding its time before it pushes forward once more. If we allow it to do that we have no chance but the Empire refuses to do battle, seemingly content with the status quo and perhaps ignoring the problem, I’m not sure, but at this point the Emperor is little more than an Thalmor Puppet. When Ulfric assumes his positon as High King as is his right via trial of combat then Skyrim will secede from the Empire becoming independent,” Ralof continued. 

“I would assume that the Thalmor won’t care and will move on after conquering the Empire to Skyrim, independent or no,” Desmond said. 

“Aye, it’s likely but see when Skyrim first came into the folds of the Empire we were not conquered. No we followed Talos or Tiber Septum willingly. He displayed the mastery over the voice, the thu’um as it were and we recognized him for what he was, and followed him for it.  
But Skyrim is a dangerous place. It is cold, and filled with vicious wildlife, and its people are all the stronger from surviving its winters and creatures. We are surrounded by deep mountain ranges on our eastern, western, and southern borders. No army could pass unmarred through the high road trail passes. Our people and perhaps those left of the Reachmen are among the few who know the passes well enough to lead men through them. Any army that the Thalmor brought through the mountains would be cut down by half long before even entering our beautiful country. That leaves only the Northern border and the sea. There is only one place an army could make landfall safely and even then it still has its dangers. Pull out your map I’ll show you, we could use a break from running, I grabbed a few apples on our way out and I saw you grab those loaves of bread,” Ralof said leading them a little off the road but still within sight. 

Desmond did as he was bid and removed the map from his bag and pulled out the two loaves of bread he’d swiped as they’d left the bowels of Helgen’s keep. He’d been hungry and it wasn’t as if anyone was sticking around to eat them anytime soon. He was careful not to jostle the glass vials of potions he’d picked up in the keep or the book that had been in the cage of the dead tortured soul. The robes and hood the man had been wearing were folded at the bottom of the bag as well. They were the closest things he’d found to what his ancestor’s used to wear and when he got a chance he was going to see if they’d fit him. Desmond swapped one of his loaves of bread for two apples and spread out his map. He could see now the towns that Ralof had marked earlier, though they already seemed to be fading, the charcoal not wanting to stick all that well to the parchment. 

“You’ll want to redo those in ink, first chance you can,” Ralof said before biting into an apple. Desmond followed his lead and almost moaned aloud as the sweet juices hit his tongue and wet his throat. He hadn’t realized just how thirsty and hungry he’d been. Ralof nudged him with an elbow bringing Desmond back down to reality and holding out a flask that had been on his waist. 

“Thank the gods they didn’t take this from me when they captured us. It’s spiced mead the good kind, Blackbriar. Honeybrew isn’t bad but the Blackbriar’s add a little cherry and spices for flavor and you just can’t beat it,” Ralof said. Desmond took the flask and a small mouthful before passing it back. He had to admit, the sourness of the cherries and the heat of a few of the spices kept the obvious sweetness of the fermented honey flavor in check. 

“That’s real good,” Desmond said, “I’d know I was a bartender back in New York, got to try some of the good stuff every once in a while.” While they ate Ralof explained more about the Aedra and the Daedra. When they finished their makeshift meal in silence before Ralof began to point things out on the map Desmond had spread out on a fallen tree trunk.

“You can see here the mountain ranges I was speaking about right?” Ralof said, and Desmond nodded. “Now as I said that just leaves the Northern border. There are three ports but none of them are big enough for an army to port at. The Thalmor could perhaps attempt to port at Solitude but they’d risk having their fleet destroyed from above by flaming arrows if they didn’t move quickly. Solitude is situated on an outcropping above the entrance of the bay. They’d have to skirt around on the eastern side of the bay and move much further in to make landfall. Unfortunately that would lead them into the Marshes. Dangerous for small groups of fighters, but an army, their like to sink into the unstable ground. East of Skyrim there is two other ports, Dawnstar and Windhelm. Dawnstar while small is surrounded by icebergs and shifting ice fields that extend almost all the way from the entrance of the bay of Solitude past the Winterhold Point to the mouth of the Yorgrim River,” Ralof continued drawing with his finger the ice fields. “Only a merchant ship or two and ones who know the waters could get through there.”

“So it’s too dangerous for them to try and bring an entire fleet in from there, I’m gonna guess that the Yorgrim River isn’t wide enough to encompass a fleet all the way down to Windhelm which is likely the safe place to port?” Desmond asked as he traced the river with his finger. 

“Exactly,” Ralof said. “But it also isn’t deep enough. Very few ships that aren’t going short distances port at Windhelm, we don’t often see more than flatboats or keelboats moored there.”

“Alright what about this space?” Desmond asked pointing out the shoreline west of Solitude. 

“From here to here,” Ralof pointed out a small portion of land that was the westernmost portion of shore, “Is all mountainous, difficult to moor and you’d still have to traverse the mountains. From here to about here is all ice fields again,” Ralof drew across an area that encompassed where the mountain range ended all the way to a lighthouse symbol he’d drawn in charcoal earlier. That leaves only this small area to land an army, and only one real way to march it,” Ralof said pointing at the small portion of land left between the lighthouse and where Solitude sat. “They’d have to march up the road and underneath the outcropping opening themselves up to arrows and hot oil. See while they can land it would leave them in a very difficult place. Armies have a difficult time trying to traverse wild land, especially land as mountainous as Skyrim is, they’d have to follow the road or risk getting lost and losing a good portion of their men both to exposure, our own armies, or to the various denizens that call this land home. Skyrim is basically unconquerable by an outside army. That’s where the last portion of the rebellion lies. There is a percentage of the Imperial Army already here. We let them in to form outposts years ago before the Dominion had ever turned its eye towards the Empire. If the Empire is to fully fall before we rout the Imperial Army from Skyrim, then the Thalmor don’t have to worry about conquering from the outside. They’ll have a ready-made army already here and half of their battle will be won,” Ralof said, as he rolled the parchment up for Desmond. 

“That makes a lot of sense actually. It’s a better reasoning than this just being a religious war. Although I don’t agree that anyone should be forbidden from worshiping their god as long as their worship doesn’t restrict others. There were a lot of groups that touted religion as a reason for war and violence where I’m from and it’s never really a good enough reason to condone killing in my belief. As long as you’re not press ganging people into your army I find no reason to fault your side of the war. I stand for free will after all,” Desmond said his voice holding a slightly ironic lilt.

“So you’ll join the Stormcloaks?” Ralof said. 

“I didn’t say that,” Desmond said. “But it’s a possibility I suppose. I’m not really sure how or why I’m here to be honest and that might be a better thing for me to focus on before I go running off to join your rebellion.”

“Fair enough,” Ralof acknowledged. “Now shall we continue on before the sun gets too low in the sky? Even in the Last Seed evening can become quite cool, I might not mind it but your clothing doesn’t look like it would keep you warm for long without the sun.” 

“Last Seed?” Desmond asked.

“Aye. You do not call your eighth month this where you are from?” Ralof asked. 

“No, we call it August,” Desmond answered. “In order first to last what do you call yours? And do you have twelve like we do? Do they all have equal amounts of days or do some of them have more or less? Do some of them have specific holidays?” Desmond asked his curiosity of this new world getting the better of him. 

“Alright, Alright,” Ralof said with a chuckle, “Let me answer these questions before you ask more. Okay from the beginning I suppose. We do have twelve months. Our first month is called Morning Star it has thirty one days. The only holidays celebrated in Skyrim are the New Life Festival on the first day of the month and South Wind’s Prayer on the fifteenth day.”

“That sounds like January it’s also our first month with thirty one days, we celebrate New Year’s Day on the first. I think it sounds similar to the New Life Festival. Our other holiday is called Martin Luther King Jr. Day, it’s on the third Monday, also known as the first day of the week, each year,” Desmond said feeling the need to share information in exchange for the information he was receiving. 

“Martin Luther King Jr.? Was he a great warrior, or king? Why do you celebrate in his name?” Ralof asked.

“See the city I’m from, New York City, is part of a larger state called New York and New York is part of the country called the United States of America. Think Helgen as an equivalent to New York City, though the city is very much larger than Helgen was, then New York as the equivalent to Skyrim and The United States of America the equivalent of the Empire. Got that?” Desmond asked and Ralof nodded. “Well I suppose much like you said the Thalmor believe they are superior to every other race there were some people from the United States, actually a good deal of people who once and still to this day believe that their skin color being light in color makes them better than those whose skin color is dark. Martin Luther King Jr. was one of the greatest leaders in the civil rights movement to end what was at the time lawful racism. When he was assassinated as a country we began celebrating in honor of what he did,” Desmond explained. 

“He sounds as though he was a good man,” Ralof said. 

“He was,” Desmond said. For a few moments there was silence and then Ralof continued. 

“Our second month is called Sun’s Dawn, it has twenty-eight days and the sixteenth is known as Heart’s Day what of your home?” Ralof asked.

“February is our second month, twenty-eight days as well with the fourteenth being Valentine’s Day, which is a celebration of those in love, what I assume Heart’s Day is I assume,” Desmond said.

“Aye, it is a celebration of love and those who worship the Aedra often call upon Dibella, those who worship the Daedra call upon Sanguine. Often times you will find that Inns offer free rooms and such,” Ralof answered. They continued going through the months of First Seed, Rain’s Hand, Second Seed, Midyear, Sun’s Height, Last Seed, Hearthfire, Frostfall, Sun’s Dusk, and Evening Star, which corresponded with the months of March, April, May, June, July, August, September, October, November and December respectively, until they reached three upright stones that had been carved with various designs. 

“We’re almost there, the Standing Stones are about a half hour walk from Riverwood, we can do it in fifteen minutes if we keep up the jog,” Ralof said. 

“Standing stones?” Desmond asked. 

“Aye, they dot Skyrim, there are legends that they bestow gifts on those who touch them but only one gift at a time. I touched the Warrior Stone once, years ago, perhaps it helped I don’t really know,” Ralof said as Desmond moved closer to them. Silverish glinting in some of the lines carved into the stones caused Desmond to instinctively flick into Eagle vision. The bright outline of each of the figures carved in the stone became all the more visible. He looked at each one of them trying to figure them out. He could immediately tell which stone was the warrior given the figure holding both a weapon and a shield. Another seemed to have a wizard figure carved into it and the last a sneaking cloaked figure. 

“That one is the Warrior Stone obviously, but the other two, Wizard and Sneak?” Desmond tried.

“Close, Mage and Thief actually,” Ralof said. Desmond debated himself internally for a moment before stepping forward and placing a hand on the Thief Stone. He had to blink himself out of eagle vision when the sudden light threatened to blind him but he found when his eyes readjusted that he couldn’t perceive the light he’d seen only moments ago with his regular sight. 

“Thief eh?” Ralof said with a raised eyebrow, “It’s never too late to change your life you know.” Desmond forced him not to snort at the irony before speaking.

“I didn’t choose it because I’m a thief myself,” Desmond said. “I know nothing of magic so the Mage Stone was out for that obvious reason, I am already a decent fighter but something I’ve learned is that the best way to win a fight is not to fight in the first place. Thieves often have skills in stealth and fast talking both efficient in the avoidance of fighting, I’m hoping perhaps that if the stone does truly bestow a gift that it will concern one of those two areas,” Desmond said. It wasn’t the full truth but he wasn’t just going to tell the other man he was an Assassin. Regular people didn’t often take that well, especially soldiers, something about the honor of an honest fight. Thankfully Ralof was nodding to Desmond’s words. 

“That makes sense, and again I have to say I hope you join the Stormcloaks. I know I said it already today but we need more people who think like you. Survival above honor,” Ralof said. “Even I can put my honor above survival at times; I blame it on my Nord blood.”

Desmond nodded as he stepped away from the stones and looked up at the sky that was slowly darkening as the sun set. Two moons were slowly becoming visible despite the fact that there was still sunlight. 

“We should keep going night can’t be far off,” Desmond said shivering slightly in the slight breeze that was given off by the river that now ran along the road. 

“Aye,” Ralof said looking to the sky himself. “The cold isn’t the only danger when one travels the roads at night. Despite how handy you are with that axe and the strange knife contraption on your arm I’d prefer to be safe inside the village walls tonight, especially when there are now dragons lurking in the sky. My sister will surely offer us a bed tonight, and perhaps some warmer clothing for you,” Ralof continued as they once more set off in a steady jog. Even with his regular exercise regime to clear his head before somehow being thrown into this world Desmond’s legs had started to burn as had his lungs. The lower they had gotten into the valley the better his lungs had felt however as the air grew thicker and more oxygen filled. Desmond had to admit the world around him was truly beautiful even with the crazy things like magic, giant spiders and dragons. 

Suddenly Ralof slowed down and quietly called for Desmond to do so as well. 

“What is it?” Desmond asked. 

“Riverwood is just around this bend. I’m nervous as to how to enter without drawing attention. Riverwood is under Jarl Balgruuf’s rule. He claims neutrality but the Imperial’s still have better hold in his land and Stormcloaks can’t walk freely without fear of capture. I could remove my tunic but my curriass still gives me away. Wearing no top would draw attention as well, as it wasn’t a particularly warm day and no one walks Skyrim with their tops unclothed unless they are an Orc,” Ralof said. 

“I grabbed the robes from that torture victim in the keep while you were searching for more potions,” Desmond said. “I was going to wear them, they are the most similar of anything I’ve seen to clothing I’m used to. Do you think they’ll fit over your armor?” Desmond asked.

“Not the curriass but if I remove that and pack it into the bottom of your pack the robes just might,” Ralof said. “Did you grab his hood as well?” the Stormcloak asked. “This is my home village and many of the guards may recognize me if I leave my face visible. I was just going to take my hair out and let it cover my face but a cowl would be better.” 

“I did,” Desmond answered as he set his pack on the ground and gently riffled through the various things he’d placed within it to get to the bottom. He’d noticed that despite its seemingly small size it held a good deal more than he expected. Magic, he’d assumed, and Ralof had explained to him that it was true while they were in the keep. It was enchanted as many things were in Nirn. Any pack enchanted in this way he put on would fit as much as he was able to physically carry in weight. While Desmond was fast and had great stamina and strength for his age he doubted that he’d ever fill it with more than seventy to seventy five pounds if he was ever going a long distance. 

“Here,” Desmond said as he pulled out the robes and cowl. The robes seemed to be made of a thick wool like fabric and looked warmer than what Desmond had on right now as did the cowl. 

“These’ll do nicely,” Ralof said as he stripped out of the fur curriass as well as the mail shirt beneath it. Desmond took both pieces of armor from him and put them into his bag before swinging it back onto his back. Ralof was quite nicely built with a flat stomach and large arms. “I’ll get these back to you by tomorrow, and I’ll see if my sister will add a little fur to the collar and sleeves to help with the cold, though I wouldn’t be surprised if the robes are already enchanted for warmth. Mages often do so with their robes,” Ralof said with a slight smirk in Desmond’s direction when he caught him looking once he was fully dressed once more.

“Shall we?” Desmond asked motioning back to the road trying to act as if nothing had happened even as his face reddened. Ralof snorted and nodded as he led the way back to the road.  
As soon as they passed the bend Desmond could see the wooden fort walls that obviously surrounded Riverwood only four or five hundred meters away. Soon enough they were about to pass through the gates. 

“Halt strangers,” one of the guards said. “What business have you here?” Beside him Desmond could feel Ralof stiffen and stepped forwards to speak so Ralof’s voice wouldn’t give him away.

“I am just passing through,” Desmond said. “My name is Altair Ibn-La’Ahad and my companion here is Ezio Auditore da Firenze. He serves as my bodyguard. I was told of a woman here, a Gerdur who might offer me and my companion a place to rest our heads for a price cheaper than your Inn,” Desmond continued trying to convince the guard that neither of them were any threat, while also making them seem important enough so that the guards had no wish to offend them by digging any deeper. 

“Alright, you may enter but know this we will be watching you and your companion lord or no stranger. Wherever you may hail from you are in Skyrim and you will respect our law,” the guard said. 

“Of course,” Desmond answered with a slight nod in the man’s direction before continuing forward Ralof keeping pace at his side. Once they were out of ear shot Ralof turned to Desmond and said,

“Thief Stone indeed.” Desmond gave a half grin, and followed as Ralof moved to lead him through the pathways in between houses towards the river seemingly towards the lumber mill.


	3. Chapter 3

As they approached the woman and man that lingered near the lumber mill who seemed to be gathering up their tools for the day Desmond and Ralof passed by a man who was a little on the shorter side in comparison to both Ralof and Desmond. It was somewhat normal to Desmond at least in his origin world as he stood at six feet but he had already noticed that a good deal of those he’d interacted with, mostly Stormcloaks, were taller than him, even the few women that he’d seen in the rebel army stood only a little shorter and at least one he’d seen was taller. He assumed it had to do with their ‘Nord’ blood, as Ralof would say, he’d also assumed the larger of the soldiers in imperial armor had been Nordic in origin and had joined the imperial army from within Skyrim while their smaller comrades had been Imperial in origin, the two races seeming to be very distinct in size. But still even the females he’d assumed to be imperial had had to at least topped five seven at minimum. It was only luck that the robes Desmond had grabbed had belonged to a man who was roughly the same size as both Desmond and Ralof. But the height or lack thereof was what caused Desmond to take a closer look at the man.

He had to be shorter than five feet five inches yet his face made him seem older, and therefore done growing. His body was thin, yet Desmond could see the lithe muscles in his upper arms. He carried a woodman’s axe on his shoulder and gave a slight, friendly nod to both Desmond and Ralof, though he didn’t seem to recognize Ralof, the mage’s cowl doing its work, and shadowing his features from view. His face was just as thin as the rest of him and he had very high cheekbones. That’s when Desmond noticed them, his ears. They were thin and pointed; looking exactly like what Desmond would expect an elf’s ears to be from a fantasy novel or movie. Ralof had mentioned elven races earlier but with his mind already trying to understand everything else he had seen and been told, like magic, and dragons and just the fact that he was here in this world, where ever here and this world was the question of elves and so called elven races existing had somehow slipped through the cracks without registering. As soon as the man, elf, had passed out of ear shot Desmond hissed towards Ralof.

“As soon as we are out of sight for the night you are explaining to me all about all of the races of this world, in detail,” Desmond said quietly. Ralof chuckled. 

“The sight of Faendal, surprise you aye? He’s worked for my sister and her husband for years but then I suppose your world doesn’t have any of the Mer, or Elven Races then? What about Argonians? Khajiit?” Ralof asked. Desmond nodded a negative to each question, he was beginning to feel as though he was in the middle of a dungeon’s and dragon’s game. If that was the case he felt the longing to curse out the dungeon master. 

“Alright, but later, as you said, when we are out of sight,” Ralof said as they approached what was obviously Ralof’s sister and her husband. 

“And what may we help you with strangers? The mill is closed for the day, if you need wood you’ll have to come in the morn, there isn’t near enough daylight for us to start a job,” Ralof’s sister said. 

“It is good then dear sister that we do not need wood,” Ralof said quietly. 

“Brother?” she said in loud surprise.

“Quiet Gerdur please,” Ralof said. “We do not need the guardsmen discovering me; it would not be good for you to have to flee, especially with my nephew being so young. The boy is only seven for Stendarr’s sake he need not know the true horrors of rebellion and fleeing one’s home.” 

“On that we can agree,” Gerdur said. “Hod, would you see if Frodnar could stay at Beidil and Jonmm’s with their boy Sveik tonight? Make it seem a reward for his good behavior today; it would be best if he did not know his uncle and his uncle’s… friend were here. He’s too young to be expected to hold his tongue, and I’m sure that they will both be moving on shortly after the dawn comes in the morn.” Hod nodded before walking off likely to find his son and the aforementioned family.

“Aye, we will,” Ralof said, “I’ll not put you in danger longer than I must, but the both of us could do with a hot meal before we tell our story.” 

“Fine brother, follow me,” Gerdur said. “I put stew on this morning, you may eat and then you will speak. I’m sure my husband will be curious to know the reason behind your coming here as well.”

“You make it seem as though you are not happy to see me?” Ralof asked as they followed Gerdur down the worn path that formed a small alleyway behind a street of houses. Chickens and goats clucked and bleated in almost every yard, and Desmond recognized the plants in several of the fenced off gardens as they passed by. 

“It is more the danger that will follow you. Truly I am happy to see you brother, but I know as you said before, you have no wish to endanger me or my family which means your coming here was both unavoidable and due to precarious reason. I know whatever it may be it is unlikely to spell good fortune for any of us,” Gerdur answered.

“Tis unfortunate that you are so correct,” Ralof said with a sigh as they approached a decently sized, from what Desmond had seen, home. Gerdur pulled out a heavy looking iron key from the apron she wore over her dress and swiftly unlocked the door. 

“In, in, there will be questions enough tomorrow from the neighbors, I’ll not invite them to be asking them now, as they would if you stay in sight much longer,” Gerdur said motioning for them to hurry inside. They did as she bid and immediately Desmond could smell the stew Gerdur had mentioned only moments earlier and his mouth watered. The bread and apples they’d eaten on the road seemed so long ago and Desmond’s stomach rumbled. 

“It smells wonderful Gerdur,” Ralof said as he lowered his cowl, no longer needing to be worried about others seeing him. Rather than answering him Gerdur embraced him. She stood only an inch or perhaps two shorter than her brother putting her at almost exactly Desmond’s height. 

“I missed you brother,” Gerdur said into his shoulder. 

“And I you sister,” Ralof answered as the door to the house opened and Hod shambled in closing and locking the door behind himself with his own key. 

“Who is your friend brother? A fellow Stormcloak?” asked Gerdur as Hod removed and hung up his tool belt. 

“Nay, but I may have persuaded him to join us. Nonetheless I owe him my life as do many Stormcloaks perhaps even including Ulfric himself, his name is Desmond,” Ralof answered, “But it is a long story and we both have been traveling all day, we are hungry and thirsty and would be very grateful to eat and drink before we tell it.”

“Of course of course,” said Gerdur as she hurried around them pulling out bowls from the shelves as Hod stoked the fire and removed the large cast iron, cauldron like pot that had been heating from the fire so that his wife could fill the bowls. 

“Come on now,” Ralof said in a whisper so his sister wouldn’t overhear leading Desmond to the heavy wood table, “Gerdur isn’t going to stop mothering until we’re well fed now.” Desmond gave a semi smile to the man and followed Ralof’s example sitting down. Soon enough large bowls were set in front of them both followed by spoons. Desmond ate heartily as did Ralof beside him. Hod and Gerdur sat down on the other side of the table and ate as well, yet at a much more sedate pace than both Desmond and Ralof. When they were finished and Gerdur was clearing the table Desmond did his best to help, gathering up the dirty bowls as she set away the excess food to be eaten in the morn. 

“Your friend is very sweet,” Gerdur said taking the dirty dishes from Desmond’s hands, as he blushed slightly. “And very handsome in the firelight.” Desmond ducked his head as he blushed and scratched the back of his neck.

“Not trying to steal my wife away are you boy?” Hod asked from behind Desmond. Desmond turned quickly suddenly slightly afraid. Hod was much larger than his wife and even Ralof. 

“Not at all sir I assure you,” Desmond said quickly looking up at the stern face of the very well-built if on the slightly older side, Lumber Mill owner and worker. The man’s face twitched from holding onto his stern demeanor and he suddenly broke into loud guffawing, as he clutched his belly. From where he sat drinking at the table Ralof was chuckling too. Even behind him Gerdur gave a couple chuckles. 

“I’m only teasing young man, my wife is far too much woman for most men to handle, she’d chew you up and spit you out afore you even knew what was going on,” Hod said. 

“Aye, my brother in law is right. She’s like an ice wolf, and bites like one too. I would know she raised me when our parent’s passed away. She has impeccable aim when throwing slippers and sharp smack,” Ralof said before suddenly ducking with a chuckle as an apple went flying in his direction from behind Desmond. 

For a little longer there was laughter and brightness before they all settled down once more. Hod passed Desmond and Ralof a brown bottle before he settled beside his wife who had already made herself some pine scented tea, with a bottle of his own. Desmond sniffed at the top of the bottle and smelt the fermentation of yeast and the sweet smell of honey. He took a sip and gingerly set the bottle on table beside him not liking the heavy taste of alcohol mixed with the extreme sweetness of honey. He much preferred the alcohol Ralof had shared with him earlier, its taste having been much more balanced. 

“So brother, what had you coming here and risking not only your freedom but our own?” Gerdur asked after a minute or two of silence. Ralof sighed and lowered his own bottle of mead. 

“Four days ago I was in Dark Water Crossing, with Ulfric and several of his lieutenants. We were riding through all of the encampments in Eastmarch, doing inspections and raising moral and the like. Somehow the Imperial Legion knew of our movements and we were ambushed just outside the small village. We were outnumbered and defeated before we even knew the enemy was there. One of the soldiers managed to knock Ulfric out with his shield before he could shout. Out of the fourty we numbered by the end there was only twenty. We were bound and loaded up into carriages that were just waiting. Further evidence that they had prior knowledge as to our movements,” Ralof sighed and took another gulp of his mead.

“Do you think you’d been betrayed?” Hod asked leaning forward. 

“If we were its likely our betrayer is already dead, but I’ll explain that in a minute,” Ralof said. “It was when they were loading us up that I saw Desmond for the first time. He was unconscious and already bound in the back of the wagon.” The couple looked at Desmond a little more suspiciously hearing that for whatever reason he’d been arrested for another reason other than being a Stormcloak or Stormcloak supporter.

“I don’t know how I got there, or to this world exactly,” Desmond spoke up. “When I explained it to Ralof he likened the being who is likely the reason behind my appearance in this world to one of the Daedric Princes. He’s explained much about this world that makes it very different than my own, such as magic, but I’ll let him continue the story.” The two nodded and Ralof gave him a slight nod as well before continuing. 

“We were almost loaded up when there was shouting,” Ralof began again. “At first I thought perhaps there were reinforcements of our own but I was quickly disillusioned when a young man in little more than rags rode, barely hanging on, through the ranks of the Legion with mine guards on his tail. The legion brought him down quickly, and had him bound with the rest of us. I knew that I, along with every other Stormcloak was already marked for death but I’d assumed that the horse thief and Desmond here would at least be receiving fair trial when we reached where ever we were going, but there would be no chance of trial for us Rebels,” Ralof continued before looking down to the ground. “I’d said my prayers, and had accepted what was coming. I knew Sovngarde awaited.”

“You stupid boy,” Gerdur said rising from her chair looking every bit the angry mother bear Desmond likened her too. “Death may have seemed inevitable but you never stop fighting you hear me? This ever happens again and you swear you won’t stop looking for a way to fight or to escape. Swear to me now,” she demanded. 

“I swear, sister, believe me I swear,” Ralof said trying to calm the angry woman down. Hod gently took his wife’s hand and pulled her back to her chair.

“Come love, he’s here now, there is obviously more to the story,” Hod said kindly.

“Aye, there is,” Ralof said. “This morning shortly after dawn we were loaded into the carts again and the sacks that had been on our heads were finally removed. I didn’t know where we were or where we were heading. We’d only been on the road for maybe an hour when Desmond here woke and returned to the land of the living.”

“A shock to the system I tell you,” Desmond said jokingly trying to break the slightly somber mood that had settled. 

“Aye, I suppose it would be,” Ralof said. “Anyways he woke up; I’d barely gotten two words out before he was already out of his bonds. He freed me from my own and Ulfric as well, without the Legion noticing. There wasn’t much we could do even so, as we’d already entered the walls of Helgen. We were unloaded from the carts and it became increasingly clearer that Desmond here and the horse thief would not be receiving trials and would be joining us at the headsman’s axe. But then the horse thief took off running his hands still tied. I didn’t even realize what was happening until the first Legion soldier was dead on the ground,” Ralof said before motioning for Desmond to be the one to speak. 

“I’d known there was no way I was escaping without a decent distraction. There were far too many of the Imperial soldiers for me to feel comfortable even trying. I don’t know if the Legion soldiers searched me when they found me where ever they found me but if they did they missed one of my weapons,” Desmond said. Ralof looked in surprise. 

“I’d forgotten about that,” Ralof said, “I’d meant to ask about the contraption on your arm but with everything that happened I never really got the chance.” Rather than immediately answering with words Desmond pulled up the sleeve of his sweater showing off the gauntlet device that held his hidden blade before flicking his wrist just so causing the blade to slide free. 

“It’s called a hidden blade, a key weapon of all members of an order I was a part of back home, it’s story is long and we don’t have near enough time to tell it tonight,” Desmond said. 

“Yes of course,” Gerdur said as Desmond let the blade slide back into the gauntlet and pulled his sleeve back down. 

“When the thief ran I quickly freed as many of the Stormcloaks as possible. They armed themselves quickly and the fighting began. I was about to find a way out of the town and flee when we heard it; a roar of some kind of beast from the sky. Only a few moments later we saw it. I swear to god I fucking froze. I couldn’t believe it,” Desmond said, rubbing his forehead.

“Aye, I put your ass back into gear and got you to follow me to the tower,” Ralof said. 

“Thank-you for that,” Desmond said.

“You haven’t said what ‘it’ was,” Hod said. 

“Nay we did not,” Ralof said. “It was a dragon, one black as the night, wings torn and broken yet still powerful. The Imperial’s for all that Helgen was one of their strongholds couldn’t hold it back. Desmond and I escaped through the bowels of the keep, leaving Helgen burning behind us. We’ve jogged all day to get here. Ulfric and those left with him likely found another way out as the dragon caused several corridors to collapse behind us.” 

“We decided that I at the very least will continue on to Riverrun to tell your Jarl of the events at Helgen since Ralof will be unable to enter the city. After that I have no idea where I’m going,” Desmond said. 

“Aye, and I will be returning to Windhelm as soon as I can, both of us will be gone by tomorrow,” Ralof said. 

“If it was anyone other than you brother who brought this news,” Gerdur said shaking her head. “By Akatosh an actual dragon, Hilde was shouting about seeing a dragon earlier today but none of the villagers believed her. Not after she’d claimed to have seen a werewolf only a few months back.”

“Aye, even when were young she was always the best storyteller,” Ralof said. Gerdur sighed. 

“The rest of the village will have questions tomorrow, you’ll have to leave early if we do not want the guard to learn you’re here,” Gerdur said. 

“Aye, Desmond here gave them fake names when they entered. What were they?” Ralof asked Desmond, “If only so that my sister and Hod can give them in answer if anyone asks.”

“I named myself as Altair Ibn-La’Ahad and you as my companion Ezio Auditore da Firenze,” Desmond said. “They are the names of two of my most famous ancestors.” 

“And also foreign, along with the cloths you are wearing,” Gerdur said. “Once you change from those and use your own name no one not even the guards that saw you will be able to connect you to the name Altair.” 

“That was the point,” Desmond said, before yawning,

“Of course!” Gerdur exclaimed, “You are both tired and will be up early tomorrow, you should get some sleep.” She bustled around grabbing a large fur from the trunk that sat beside the fire. 

“We only have one spare bed I’m afraid. Lucky for you Ralof has always been on the smaller side for a Nord, and you are even smaller Desmond,” Gerdur said. 

“I don’t mind,” Ralof said, “I’ve shared bedrolls with my comrades in order to stay warm up in Dawnstar, as long as you have no qualms Desmond?” 

“No it’s alright, you could have kicked me out and instead you have fed me and are offering me a place to sleep,” Desmond said. Gerdur moved forward and drew Desmond into a hug, something Desmond wasn’t used to receiving and so stiffened. 

“You are the reason that my brother yet lives, and not to mention that the rebellion yet lives,” Gerdur said, “You will always have a place to rest your head here Desmond.”

“Thank-you,” Desmond said gratefully. 

“Of course, now come,” Gerdur said leading them down a set of stairs into a cellar that was split into two rooms. One which seemed to be the actual cellar with barrels and shelves lined with jars of pickled foods, the other which they were led too held a large beautifully carved wooden bed as well as shelves with various hand carved wooden animals and various other wooden toys, making it most obviously Gerdur and Hod’s son’s room. 

“They animals are beautiful,” Desmond said staring at a very detailed wooden nine point stag. 

“Aye,” said Gerdur, “Faendal carved them for Frodnar, he helped Hod with the bed too.” She passed the thick furs she carried to Ralof who set them upon the bed before speaking once more. “You boys sleep well now.”

“Thank-you again sister,” Ralof said. 

“Yes thank-you for your hospitality,” Desmond said. Gerdur nodded and closed the door behind her as she left. Ralof twisted his neck to pop the joints before began removing his boots and robes. Desmond followed his lead removing his running shoes and his sweater. He set both the sword and the axe he’d picked up gently beside where Ralof had set his own and gently removed his hidden knife setting it instead on the top of one of the shelves. He continued undressing until like Ralof he was in nothing but his underwear. Ralof tossed one of the furs to Desmond and took one for himself. Both furs were thick and brown and quite large. Desmond drew upon his knowledge left behind by the pieces of him that were Connor and knew that they were bear furs. 

Slipping into the opposite side of the bed as Ralof Desmond spoke.

“You promised an explanation into the races of this world,” Desmond said as he lay on his back beside Ralof. 

“Aye, I did,” Ralof said quietly. “May I ask first of the races of your home world?” 

“Technically we only have one race,” Desmond said. “The human race, though there are various different ethnicities. We have only humans.” 

“I see,” Ralof said. “In terms of race then, Skyrim and Tamriel there are three main races; Human’s, Mer, and Beast. As you said about your world there are various different ethnicities that fall among the races. For humans there are the Nords, native to Skyrim. All Nords and many half-blood Nords have a resistance to cold, including spelled cold. Then there are the Imperials, they hail generally from Cyrodiil which is also the home of the Emperor, though they can be found in many of the various countries’ of Tamriel. There are the Redguards; they are from Hammerfell, though again there are a few in Skyrim. You can generally tell a Redguard by sight given their dark skin although there are some Bretons, the final human race that have dark skin. Bretons are an odd quirk. They are the descendants of those born to a human and an elf and hail from High Rock. Generally it’s Wood Elf and Imperial though there are many pairings possible,” Ralof said. “There is also a race called Elder but they number so few that there are no known full blooded members that have come forward to claim they are so.”

“That is a good deal fewer than my home has, then again it doesn’t have Mer, or Beast races as you called them,” Desmond said. 

“I see,” Ralof said before continuing his almost lecture like words, “The Mer are also known as the Elven Races. They are the Altmer, Bosmer, Dunmer, Orsmer and Falmer, otherwise known as the High Elves, Wood Elves, Dark Elves, Orcs and the Snow Elves. Altmer or High Elves are called so because of their height they are the tallest among the races even taller than the Orcs. They are often slimly built and hail generally from the Summerset Isles. The Thalmor are all High Elves, along with their height you can also tell if one is a High Elf because of their summer or golden skin tone. Then come the Bosmer or Wood Elves. Opposite the spectrum Wood Elves are generally the shortest of all the races both in height and build. They hail generally from Valenwood, a country almost completely forest. Unfortunately the Altmer Dominion hold control of their homeland.”

“But they’re both elven races, wouldn’t they be allies?” Desmond asked.

“Aye you’d think but no, the Thalmor and those who fight with them believe themselves above all even their elven kind,” Ralof said. 

“They sound like pompous bastards,” Desmond said and Ralof chuckled beside him. 

“You hit the nail right on the head,” Ralof said. 

“So the others?” Desmond asked.

“Right,” Ralof said. “Dunmer or Dark Elves, are named so because of their skin tone ranging from light grey to almost pitch black, they hail from Morrowwind a land filled with much ash from the volcano that finds its home there. Many Dunmer fled from their homes to Skyrim because of the combinations of the Red Year, which mainly resulted in the eruption of the Red Mountain and the subsequent Argonian invasion. The Orsmer or Orcs hail from Orsinium and also from High Rock, there are a few clans that reside in Skyrim as well, usually remote and well out of the way. They are well built some of them even more so than the most built Nord and are generally taller than we Nords as well. Often they have two large tusk like teeth in their lower jaw that rest over their lips. And finally the Falmer or Snow Elves though very few call them such any longer,” Ralof said as he shifted in the bed to his side resting his head on his hand as he looked at Desmond.

“A long time ago when the Dwemer or Dwarves were still around, they forced the Snow Elves into slavery. Stories tell of the race’s beauty, but now the Falmer are retched creatures. They live underground and in caves, shadows of what they once were, killing any that pierces their quiet sanctuary. That’s it for the Mer, leaving only the beast races of which there are only two left; the Argonians and the Khajiit who hail from Black Marsh and Elswyr respectively. The Argonians are humanoid lizards, while the Khajiit are humanoid cats, hence why they are called the beast races,” Ralof said. 

“They must be an interesting sight,” Desmond said.

“I suppose for those who may have never seen either before they would be,” Ralof said. 

“Thank-you for taking the time to tell me about all these things I do not know,” Desmond said with a soft sigh turning his head to look at Ralof whose body was still turned towards him. 

“Like I said this morning, you saved my life, all I can do is help pay that back little by little,” Ralof said.

“And if we never see one another after tomorrow morning? What then?” Desmond asked. 

“I’m sure we’ll see each other again Desmond,” Ralof said with a grin. “Ulfric will want to thank-you for saving his life himself and would track you down eventually. I’ll be there when he does.” Desmond twisted and lightly pushed at Ralof’s shoulder, causing Ralof to chuckle before he lay back on his back.

“We should sleep now, dawn comes earlier even in the valley,” Ralof said as he shifted slightly to become more comfortable. 

“Yeah,” Desmond whispered back letting himself settle as well as he closed his eyes, drifting off only moments later.


End file.
